


Monster Madness

by afteriwake



Series: Unexpected Legacies [7]
Category: Arthurian Mythology, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Halloween, Magic, Monsters, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5017414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Halloween comes around and it starts every bit as irritating and uncomfortable as Sherlock and Molly have expected as every ghost in the vicinity makes their presence known, and only gets worse as disciples of the Dark One turn a twelve hour monster movie marathon into an attempt to wreak havoc in the city of London by making the movie monsters come to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is another fic for the 2015 Spook Me Ficathon (and I only have nine days to finish it!!!), and this particular story was inspired by "[Vampire](http://s29.postimg.org/u7l3i3dcn/Vampire1.jpg)" by Chad Michael Ward.

He could tell before he was even fully awake that Halloween was going to be, from this year forward, the worst day of the year. There was an overwhelming chatter that he couldn’t seem to tune out that woke him long before the sun rose. He could feel that Molly was awake as well, as she was tossing and turning next to him, clamping the pillow around her ears. “Make them stop,” she murmured, her voice muffled by the pillow.

He lifted the pillow up slightly and then burrowed under it next to her, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I would if I could,” he said. “But they’re bothering me, too.”

“I just want them to shut the bloody hell up,” she said, letting go of the other end of the pillow and turning to face him. “I have to go into my post today and I’m not in the mood to have to deal with this all day.”

“I would suggest you call in,” he said. “Unless we can have a chat with Merlin to see if there’s anything we can do beforehand.”

“If I have to see him now I may bite his head off or something,” she said with a slight smile, despite the circumstances. “I suppose I could play hooky for a day. I didn’t have anything too pressing to do today, and it would be more fun to spend the day sitting in front of the telly watching movies so long as we can figure out a way to get the racket to quiet down.”

“I think we’ll figure out something,” he said, reaching over to run a hand along her waist.

“Are you suggesting something, Sherlock?” she asked, her tone teasing.

He stopped. “What? No,” he said, somewhat shocked.

She chuckled. “I knew you weren’t,” she said, scooting forward slightly. “I mean, we haven’t even been on a proper date yet, what with you having that important case when we got back from Eynsford and then me having to catch up on work and then the party…but I wouldn’t mind just kissing you for a while under the covers, proper date or not.”

“Under the covers?” he asked.

“Don’t want an audience,” she said, gesturing slightly to the area around them. “Even if they aren’t paying attention to us.”

He nodded and moved closer to her. “Understandable,” he replied, moving his hand away from her waist before reaching for the quilt and pulling it up over their heads. The ambient light that had been in the bedroom was gone but they didn’t really need it; their lips found each other just fine in the darkness and after a few minutes he found the background chatter of the ghosts slipping away, to be replaced with the sound of their heartbeats in synch and faint whispers of another voice in his mind, a feminine voice, though he couldn’t make it out. He much preferred that to the ghosts.

His thoughts drifted to what Raedself had said by the pool when she was seeing his future. “ _You are connected by more than the spell that gave her the spirit of your spirit, the breath of your life. You were connected long before that. It was writ among the heavens._ ” What if the female voice he was hearing now was Molly’s? What if he could partially hear her thoughts? But before he could ask, she pulled away from him. “Was that about us?” she asked, looking up at him.

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“I just…being connected, it being written in the stars…was that about us?” she asked, and then her eyes widened. “Oh, God, you didn’t say that out loud, did you?”

“No, I did not,” he said, looking at her. “How clearly did you hear it?”

“Clearly enough,” she said. “I could tell someone had told it to you, I mean, and that you were remembering it.”

“But I mean…” He pushed the quilt up and then sat up. “Exactly what did you hear?”

“Most of what I heard was indistinct,” she said as she sat up as well. “I mean, it wasn’t like the chatter with the ghosts, where there’s so much that it’s all garbled, just that it was faint. It was more like a murmur. But then I heard you very clearly but very softly say ‘You are connected by more than the spell that gave her the spirit of your spirit, the breath of your life. You were connected long before that. It was writ among the heavens.’”

“I was thinking it,” he said, looking at her with surprise. “I was thinking about something else and that was told to me last night by the fae and I thought about it and you heard that clearly.”

“Yes, well, I’d rather listen to all of your thoughts again then this racket,” she said, cringing. 

He had noticed, too, that the chatter of the ghosts had come back to full volume once they had stopped kissing, had stopped being close. There was something there, he knew it, but for now… He leaned forward and framed her face in his hands before kissing her again, and the chatter died down to a quiet murmur. He’d kiss her until his lips were sore while he figured out a way to lessen the noise and make the day bearable for both of them, and he’d ponder this new development later, perhaps after he spoke to Merlin for a bit.


	2. Chapter 2

Eventually, the lack of sleep got to Molly and she began to yawn again, which made kissing her much harder. Sherlock asked if it was all right if he eased her to sleep and she agreed, so he murmured the spell Merlin had taught him to temporarily cause someone to lose consciousness for a bit, hoping she’d get at least an hour’s rest, and he made his way to the kitchen with his jaw set as the cacophony of conversation from every ghost in the area grated on his ears.

He saw John at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, and he stared at Sherlock with wide eyes. “You stayed out at the party late?” he asked.

“It was more the damnable ghosts aren’t letting me sleep,” he grumbled, making his way to the coffee.

John suddenly seemed to remember what day it was. “Ah. Halloween. Got it,” he said. “Where’s Molly?”

“Asleep,” he said.

“I thought…?” John asked.

“I cheated, using magic on her,” he said as he got a mug.

“You couldn’t do it on yourself?” John asked.

“Wouldn’t have had the same effect,” he said, shaking his head. He poured himself some coffee and then went for the sugar. “She’ll probably only get an hour of rest and then she’ll be awake again. I doubt it will be enough.”

“How long have you two been awake?” 

Sherlock looked at the clock on the coffeemaker. It read seven eighteen. “Roughly four hours now,” he said, suppressing a yawn. “Though I didn’t really go to sleep, to be honest. I was running things over in my head.”

“Well, since I didn’t hear about a disaster at the Scotland Yard Halloween party in the papers this morning, I imagine it wasn’t the rogue faerie,” John said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“No,” Sherlock said, spooning two spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee and stirring it. “That was rather underwhelming, to be honest. No, I was thinking about the boon I got from the Queen of the faeries. I got a glimpse of my future.”

John slowly lowered his mug. “And I take it it wasn’t all sunshine and roses,” he said.

Sherlock stared at his cup. “Someone close to me is supposed to die,” he said quietly. “I don’t know who, other than it isn’t Molly. I don’t know when, either. All I know is it can be averted, but…that’s it. I know no other details other than it’s going to happen.”

“So something nice and vague to worry about,” John said with a grim smile. “Well, even with your old life, we were always in danger. I mean, Greg’s a copper, and we were always in danger, too. There were the Chinese assassins, the scientist with the head games at Baskerville, Moriarty…it doesn’t change much, really.”

“I suppose,” Sherlock said quietly.

“Have you talked to Merlin about it yet?” John asked. Sherlock shook his head. “Maybe you should. Talk to him about the ghost situation and what you found out last night and get a clearer head on all this.”

“And what are you going to do?” Sherlock asked.

“Take a shower, get ready and go into the surgery,” he said. “I have a full day of work ahead of me and then I have a date tonight.”

“You have a date tonight?” Sherlock asked.

“Don’t look so surprised,” John said with a smirk. “There’s a nurse named Mary. Nice enough woman, seems to like me even though I keep weird company. Asked me out for a drink tonight and thought I might want to go on a ghost walk, considering its Halloween and all.”

“If you wanted a ghost walk I could take you on one,” Sherlock said as he picked up his coffee. “I could tell you what every ghost in the vicinity is saying right now.”

“Not really all that interested,” John said with a chuckle. “I’d rather listen to some fake blather on with interesting fanciful stories than listen to an actual ghost complain that I…I don’t know. Leave the lights on too long for his liking.”

“The one right next to you says it’s more like your taste in the telly is crap,” Sherlock remarked before taking a sip of his coffee.

“See? I’d rather hear exciting stuff then trivial complaints,” John said, making a face. He finished his coffee and stood up. “And for your information, whatever ghost you are, my taste in television programmes is _not_ crap, thank you very much.” He turned around and made his way to the washroom as Sherlock made his way to the kitchen table, sitting down as he felt a familiar presence enter the room.

“Personally, the fact John likes Doctor Who makes him A-OK in my book,” Merlin said a moment later.

“I usually just ignore it, but the ghost seems to prefer Molly’s period pieces,” Sherlock said with a shrug. He set the mug down and rubbed at his temples. “They’re giving me a headache.”

“I’m not surprised. And it’s only going to get worse if you go outside, I’m afraid. At least, unless you’re wearing this.” He set down a braided bracelet in front of Sherlock. “Made it myself. I thought I’d given them to you and Molly earlier but with all the fuss over the party and what was supposed to happen there it slipped my mind. It’s a dampener of a sort. You can keep it on all the time, if you want, but you might find there’s times it’s useful to hear what the ghosts are saying. But on Halloween, it’s useful.”

Sherlock picked up the bracelet. It was made of string, in multiple different dark shades: forest green, navy blue, plum purple and black, with a dark burnished silver thread running through it. There were silver coins at various points that Sherlock thought looked as though they were embellished with Greek, though they were much smaller than the Greek coins he had seen when he had developed an interest in coin collecting as a child. He undid the silver clasp and then, with some difficulty, put it around his wrist. After a moment there was blissful silence, and his shoulders sagged slightly with relief. “Thank you,” he said.

“You might want to go put the other one on Molly’s wrist,” Merlin said. “Unless, of course, you want to spend the entire day kissing her. I don’t think _she’d_ mind, but you’ll get tired after a while.”

Sherlock felt himself warm just a bit at that. “I’ll do it now,” he said, standing up and taking the other bracelet Merlin offered, nearly snatching it out of the man’s hand. He made his way into the bedroom and saw Molly fitfully sleeping. Perhaps the spell was not strong enough for the chatter to be overcome, he realized. He went to her side of the bed and gently took her arm, holding it still while he put the bracelet on. After a moment she stopped tossing and turning as much, and a contented sigh escaped her lips as she settled into the bed. He looked down at her, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead before getting back up and heading back out. He saw Merlin had gotten coffee of his own and was leaning against the kitchen worktop taking a sip. “So that’s it? We can relax a bit?”

“Oh, no,” Merlin said. “Halloween is a big day. You can expect there to be trouble, so you have to be on your guard.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I can feel that someone’s going to try something, especially since last night wasn’t successful. I’m going to nose around a bit, see what the word is. For now you can sit tight but…something’s going to happen. I know it.”

Sherlock sighed. It wouldn’t be that easy, would it? He picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Merlin?” he asked.

“Yes?” Merlin responded.

“Have you had the fae look into your future before?” he asked.

“A few times,” he said with a nod. “Not that particular fae, but ones who were just as skilled at what they did. Why?”

“What she saw…” He paused as he tried to figure out what to say. “She said we’ll have allies. Family, and someone stronger than me. Someone as strong as you.”

Merlin straightened from his slouching position. “Did she give names? No, no, of course she didn’t. They never do.” He set his cup down. “Exactly what did she say, Sherlock?”

He thought back a moment. “’You will have family by your side. Not just your ancestor, but one you expected not to hear from ever again, one who has powers of his own,’” he said, shutting his eyes. “’ Your enemy is strong, but you will gain another ally. Someone stronger than you, someone on par with your ancestor. There is an event that will cause them to come from the shadows, to pledge their allegiance to family.’ I’m assuming she meant my family.”

“I would believe so. So it appears your other brother will come into play after all.” He cupped his chin, rubbing it slightly. “I need to think on this a while. Between what you were told and the conversation with the Dark One at Molly’s home, there’s a lot to be said for the past coming back.”

“There’s more,” Sherlock said.

“Oh?” Merlin asked.

“Before that, when she talked about Molly and I. She said, ‘You have a long journey ahead of you, but you will not be on it alone. You and your chosen mate are tied together throughout it, through ups and down, but your faith in each other will never waiver. You are connected by more than the spell that gave her the spirit of your spirit, the breath of your life. You were connected long before that. It was writ among the heavens.’”

“Predestination,” Merlin murmured. He stroked his chin a moment more before picking up his coffee again and taking a long drink. “There’s a lot to think about, a lot to research and look into. But first, we need to get past today. I’ll see what I can find out that might cause a threat today. For now, you and Molly stay here as much as possible. It’s safest if you stay here.”

Sherlock nodded. “All right,” he said. Merlin finished his coffee and then blinked out, leaving Sherlock alone. He hadn’t brought up that one of his friends was marked for death and he wondered why. That was important, too, but perhaps as John had pointed out wasn’t that much different than any normal time since they’d been involved with him. He went back to his coffee after a moment. For now he would worry on that matter on his own. Right now there were other things that could be a much more potentially larger problem.


	3. Chapter 3

He’d made it to the sofa and turned on the telly once John had left, his eyes fluttering closed shortly thereafter once he’d gotten used to the drone of the voices coming from that and not all of the ghosts in the vicinity. When his eyes fluttered open later he found himself stretched out upon the sofa with the throw draped over him and a humming coming from the kitchen. He sat up and stretched, rubbing the back of his neck from sleeping at an awkward angle even though someone had put a pillow under his head. Once he felt a little more human he got up and went to find Molly puttering around. She heard him and lifted up the wrist with the bracelet. “Merlin’s doing?” she asked.

He nodded. “He meant to give them to us earlier but with all of the hoopla around the party he forgot.”

“Ah,” she said. “Well, I got a few hours of rest. Probably not nearly as much as I needed, but there was a small canister of tea on the counter and a note that we should each have some.”

“So you didn’t…?” he asked, gesturing to the sofa.

She shook her head. “I just woke up a half hour ago and you were already tucked in.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding slightly disappointed.

She chuckled slightly and stepped closer to him. “Well, if I had woken up earlier I would have done it,” she said. “After all, you did try to ensure I got some sleep. Though you could have slipped back into bed with me. I think I would have slept even better that way.”

“I hadn’t actually planned on falling asleep,” he said, putting his hands on her waist. “Trust me, I would have preferred sleeping next to you than sleeping on the sofa.”

“Well, what plans do you have for the rest of the day?” she asked, moving to put her hands on his chest.

“For the moment nothing, but Merlin thinks there might be some mischief at play so he’s trying to find out what it could be. Was there anything on the note with the tea?”

She shook her head. “Just that we should each drink as much as we could stand.”

“Is it particularly good tasting tea?” he asked hesitantly.

“It is, actually. It’s a nice citrusy herbal tea with a hint of jasmine, I think, and maybe passion fruit. I feel quite refreshed and energized, actually.”

“Then perhaps I’ll have a few cups,” he said before he slid his hands to the small of her back.

“After you kiss me, I’m assuming,” she said with a smile.

“That had been my plan,” he said as he nodded.

“Well, my lips are a bit bruised but I won’t say no to a few more kisses,” she said as she leaned in. The dull murmur that the bracelets left gave way to near silence once their lips met. They stayed like that for a few moments before there was a discrete cough to the side and then they pulled apart to see Merlin standing there. 

“I don’t normally interrupt, but this is important,” he said, not looking at Molly, who was blushing bright red. “I’m not sure what specifically is going to happen today, but there are a group of disciples of the Dark One who seem to want to use the extra power in the day to wreak some havoc. They want to bring something to life, or back to life. I couldn’t quite figure out what from my contact.”

Sherlock moved away from Molly. “These disciples…human or non-human?”

“Human, mostly. There’s a few half-humans in the group. They’re not really all that selective, I gather, but you have to have some human blood in you. And I mean that in the actual ‘be part-human’ sense, not the ‘having just snacked on a human’ sense.” He caught the surprised look on Molly’s face. “There’s enough of them running around this country, and the world at large. They like to blend into the shadows, though. The smart ones can stay alive for centuries that way. It’s the stupid ones who bring a spotlight on themselves that get themselves killed, especially in this day and age with digital cameras and the internet.”

“Yes, but why wouldn’t the disciples align themselves with them?” she asked.

“Two things, I suppose: racial superiority and fear. Racial superiority is easy to understand: most humans look down on all the other creatures of the world as prey, even if some of _them_ look at humans that way. Humans always figure they’re smarter, faster and better and are at the top of any food chain. It’s rather laughable, to be honest. There are those who are just…well, they’ve got every reason to look down their noses at humans. They’re gods on Earth, really. Elves, for example.” He thought for a moment. “That’s especially big here in Britain, with the class system. Class superiority isn’t all that different from racial superiority among magic users, especially those who practice the dark arts.”

“And I suppose the fear is fear that they won’t get eaten,” Sherlock said.

“Among other things,” Merlin agreed with a nod. “Even thinking you’re superior to someone doesn’t mean admitting that there aren’t things they can do better than you. And there are some creatures that excel in some pretty nasty things. There’s always the fear if you do the wrong thing or you say the wrong thing they may turn their prodigious talents at those nasty things on you.” Merlin looked over at him. “Had any of the tea yet?”

Sherlock shook his head. “I just woke up.”

“Hmm. Wasted no time making up for lost canoodling time,” he said, to which Sherlock gave him a mild glare. “Drink at least three cups and get a bite to eat and then get dressed. We need to go meet with some people.”

“And Molly?” he asked.

Merlin considered things. “Might be best if she stays here and does research for me. You have more control over your magic than she does. Not all of these people we’re going to meet are savory folk. They’ll try and manipulate her. You’ll be able to put them in their place if they try and manipulate you.”

“I don’t mind doing research,” Molly said. “I can keep the telly on in the background. There’s some sort of monster movie marathon going on today. Twelve hours of them.”

Merlin made a face. “Seen enough monsters in my lifetime, thanks.”

“Well then, perhaps I can do my Halloween children’s marathon after all,” she said. “Watch the movies I grew up watching. They’re at least a lot less harmless.”

Merlin looked at her closely. “After the way your morning started off, you’re still willing to enjoy this holiday?” he asked incredulously. “That’s a bit…I don’t know. Strange.”

“Yes, I am,” she said angrily with a rather defiant nod. “Aside from Christmas, Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. It’s always been a day I got to be someone other than plain old mousy Molly Hooper. I’m going to keep loving this holiday, by God, and no amount of stupid ghosts or…or…grumpy old wizards are going to change my mind about it!” She turned at that and made her way towards the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Sherlock went over to the teapot and poured himself a cup of tea. “One lesson I learned a long time ago,” he said urbanely before taking a sip. “Do not make Molly mad. You’ll regret it.”

Merlin looked over at him with slightly widened eyes. “Is she actually mad?”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes. She isn’t the type to stalk away or raise her voice or slam doors. You might want to apologize. And you should actually mean it.” Merlin nodded and made his way to the bedroom. Sherlock had some more of the tea, feeling more and more energized with each sip. He could understand why the holiday meant so much to Molly. It was a day she could be anyone she wanted to be instead of the person she thought everyone saw when they looked at her, the meek and unassuming woman they could walk all over. He had seen her that way for the longest time himself. Now he saw her in a new light, though, and he’d make sure she knew that. And if he could do anything to salvage the rest of her favorite holiday…well, then he’d do that as well. But first, he’d take care of this problem. That was his most pressing concern.


	4. Chapter 4

It was nearing half past four when they got back to Baker Street. Merlin and Sherlock had popped into Speedy’s to pick up sandwiches for themselves and Sherlock had gotten something for Molly as well since she had been engrossed in the books Merlin had left her once she had accepted his apology. Sherlock had let them in while Merlin was carrying the food, a question on his mind. “Merlin, how many of the people that we talked to today knew who I really was?” he asked as he shut the door behind them.

“You mean, how many of them knew you as more than Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective?” he countered. Sherlock nodded. “A fair bit of them. Not all of them know magic, but there were a few aura readers, some people with clairvoyant skills, and a few of my trusted friends in that lot. Your lineage is more well known than I wager you’d want it to be.”

“Wonderful,” he murmured with a sigh.

“Sherlock, the minute you came back from the dead everyone knew,” Merlin said. “That sort of thing just doesn’t happen. It was as though a million jigawatt light bulb went off over your head proclaiming you as resurrected and immortal. Anyone with any inkling of magical power can tell there’s something unique about you.” They made their way up the stairs. “We’ll work on tempering it down, though.”

“Good,” he said as they got into the sitting room. Molly had pushed the chairs and table out of the way and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, books piled up and spread around her. She had her hair up in a lopsided bun on top of her head with two pens stuck in it, and she was biting her lip as she absently pushed the reading glasses Sherlock saw her bring out when she had to read very tiny text up her nose. He went over and knelt down next to her, looking over her shoulder. “Interesting reading?”

“Absolutely fascinating,” she said, not looking at him as she flipped the next page. “I’m learning quite a bit, thanks to the speed reading spell Merlin taught me before the two of you left.”

“Glad to know it helped,” Merlin said with a grin as he took the food to the kitchen table. “Sherlock said he got your usual order from Speedy’s.”

“Later,” she said, moving her gaze to the next page.

“Humour me,” Sherlock said, pressing a kiss in her hair before standing up.

“All right,” she said with a small sigh. “But these spells were getting interesting.” She uncrossed her legs and then stretched for a moment before taking Sherlock’s offered hand and standing up. “What time is it?”

“Just about half past four,” he said.

Her eyes widened slightly. “I didn’t realize I’d been reading for nearly four hours.”

Merlin drifted over to the telly, sandwich in hand. “What movie is this?” he asked.

Molly looked over at it. “’The Worst Witch,’” she said. “I’ve basically put it on repeat. I used to watch it before I’d go out trick-or-treating when I was young. I love listening to Tim Curry sing.”

“Yeah, he does have a good voice,” Merlin agreed. “I’ve met a few demons who said they hated the fact they used him for the Lord of Darkness in ‘Legend’ because then everyone expected all the demons they made deals with to sound like him.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Are you on friendly terms with said demons?” he asked.

“Ever heard of a show called Supernatural in the States?” Merlin asked. Sherlock shook his head, but Molly nodded. “Explain Crowley to him, Molly.”

“He’s the King of Hell, or at least now he is, but he’s on friendly enough terms with the Winchester brothers, who are the heroes of the show,” Molly said. “He’s a bad guy, he was one of the chief villains of the show for a while, but he’s not as bad as, say, Lucifer.” She paused. “Though even Lucifer isn’t entirely bad, either. Sometimes the angels are worse.”

“That went over my head,” Sherlock said, moving to the food.

“Well, the point is he’s a demon, but he isn’t exactly the worst character on the show,” Merlin said. “There have been, in my many eons of existence on this earth, a few creatures who are supposed to be evil who actually aren’t as bad as they seem.” He took a bite of his sandwich, and chewed it. “Just as there are creatures who are supposed to be good and are wicked to the core.”

Sherlock looked at Merlin, and then after a moment narrowed his eyes at him. “Didn’t you just this morning mock Molly for wanting to enjoy Halloween?”

“Yeah, well,” Merlin said uncomfortably, moving a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Supernatural is kind of my guilty pleasure show. And besides, it’s about fighting monsters, which is basically what I do. Halloween is about celebrating them.”

“It’s all right,” Molly said, giving him a smile. “I understand. And don’t worry, Supernatural is my guilty pleasure show too.”

“I get the feeling there’s going to be some very interesting chats in our future,” Merlin said, giving her a grin. “Favorite Winchester?”

“Dean,” she said without hesitation. “Sam is also lovely, I wish there was more Mary, I think they forgot about poor Adam and John can go rot in Hell.”

“Good,” Merlin said, his grin getting wider. “Don’t get me wrong, I like Sam, but Dean is a much more interesting person to consider.” He took another bite of his sandwich. “Was there anything in the books that caught your eye?”

She shook her head. “Nothing that will help today, I’m afraid. Not unless I know more about what to be on the lookout for specifically.” She looked through the food and found the sandwich for her. “Did the two of you pick up any more details?”

“Not much,” Sherlock said. “Just that they aren’t trying to raise the dead, thankfully. That would take too much power, more power than they have. But they want to raise _something_. The question is, what?”

“Well, there are a few possibilities,” Merlin said. “There are spells that can control flora and create monsters out of that, there are spells that can raise the _spirits_ of the dead without raising their bodies, which would do to the general public what was done to the two of you. It could also possibly give the spirits control of their physical surroundings.”

“That could be troublesome,” Sherlock said as the door to Baker Street opened and footsteps were heard pounding up the stairs. Seconds later Lestrade and Sally were in the sitting room. “Yes?”

“Monsters,” Lestrade said, trying to catch his breath. “Monsters…from the telly.”

“And I suppose that answers the question,” Merlin said, setting down his sandwich as Molly’s eyes went wide. “They’re raising the monsters from the movie marathon Molly was talking about. What movie was it?”

“Well, this particular movie was a vampire one,” Sally said. “Not ‘Nosferatu’ but something similar. We’ve gotten calls of vampires appearing in public places showing the film.”

“But not homes?” Sherlock asked. Both Sally and Lestrade shook their head. “At least that’s one positive for us.”

“Once they get in the sunlight they’re dust,” Lestrade said. “But it’s instigating a panic. And the network can’t stop the marathon.”

“What do you mean?” Molly asked.

“The room where they control what’s being shown has been taken over by a group of hooded men and women and possibly something not entirely human,” Lestrade said. “The head of the network tried to get inside but there’s a barrier in place. No one can get in to get the movies off the air.”

“What’s the next movie?” Sherlock asked.

“A werewolf movie,” Sally said. “And it goes on the air at six.”

Merlin looked at the pile of books and then moved over to it. “Okay then. I need to make a quick trip to my workroom, but…” He picked up a book and thumbed through it before grabbing moving to the desk and grabbing a piece of paper and using it as a bookmark. Then he handed the book to Molly. “Take that to the network. Don’t go near the room and whatever you do, don’t let the people in the room see the book. But you and Sherlock, study the spell. I’m going to need you both for that. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He blinked out after that, and Lestrade and Sally stared at the spot where he’d been.

“You get used to it,” Molly said, tucking the book under her arm. She gestured to the door. “We should probably get going since we’re running out of time.”

“Was it just the two of you who came?” Sherlock asked Lestrade.

Lestrade nodded. “Yeah.”

“Spell?” Molly asked Sherlock.

“Spell,” Sherlock said with a nod.

“What spell?” Sally asked as Molly went over to Sally and grabbed her hand with one hand and Sherlock put a hand on Lestrade’s shoulder and a hand on Molly’s shoulder before uttering the transportation spell. They landed in the alley outside the television network and Sally’s eyes were wide. “I think it’s going to take a while to get used to that.”

“But it’s a lot easier to get around,” Sherlock said. He could feel some rather dark energy emanating from the building and he steeled himself before looking at Molly. “All right. Let’s go.” And with that, they made their way to the front and then made their way inside, not quite sure what awaited them.


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing Sherlock realized is that there where television monitors all over the place, and they were all tuned to the movie marathon. This could pose a problem. He turned to Molly. “How good are your defensive spells?” he asked quietly.

“Not the best, but I can do some,” she said, taking note of the same thing he did. “I can keep Sally and Greg safe enough, so long as no one comes from behind us.”

Sherlock thought about it. Chances are they would get people or creatures from all around if they were attacked. “What about offensive?”

“Well, there was a spell I took a little time away from reading today to try. It’s rather like what you can do naturally, when you call fire into your palm. It’s called a Living Flame spell. Basically it’s a ball of flame that I can control with my thoughts.”

“How much practice did you get?” he asked.

“Not much,” she admitted. “But I picked it up surprisingly quickly.” He considered things. If he could protect the three of them with a shield spell of some sort, he would be able to do some offensive magic but not much, as he’d need to be concentrating on the shields. But then she tugged on his sleeve. “Have you considered just shutting down the power to the building? No power means no monitors, and that means no broadcasting.”

He gave her a slowly widening grin. “That’s an even better idea than what I had,” he said.

“And what was your idea?” she asked.

“Knock out each and every one of the hooded men and women and counteract the spells.”

“Sometimes you over think things,” she said, shaking her head. She went over to Lestrade. “Any chance you got to look at a blueprint of the building before you came to get us?”

“No, but they probably have them outside,” he said.

Sherlock thought for a moment. “We may not need them,” he said. “Chances are the main power area would be down in the basement. With a building this large and with as much machinery as there is, it would be the safest place. And we don’t even have to go down there.” He moved over to the wall and placed a hand on it, shutting his eyes.

“Uh…Sherlock?” Sally said.

“What?” he asked, grinding his teeth as he used magic to trace the flow of electrical energy in the walls. He should have told them he didn’t like to be interrupted while doing spell work.

“Vampire,” she said, and he could hear her and Lestrade pull their guns out of their holsters. He quickly pulled his hand away from the wall and turned, seeing not one but three of the creatures approaching them. The creatures had pale skin and long, batlike ears, and its eyes were red. When the closest one opened its mouth there were more than just two sharp fangs; its whole mouth was full of razor sharp teeth. “Definitely not the Hammer Horror Film type vampire.”

“Not in the slightest,” Lestrade said.

“Shoot the television screens!” Sherlock said, using the natural ability he had to conjure flame to make a ball of flame appear in each palm. He threw one ball of flame at a vampire and saw that Molly had used her spell to call up the living flame, causing it to split in two to consume the other two vampires. Sally and Lestrade took out each of the television screens with a well placed shot amidst the screeches from the burning vampires, but soon there was silence in the large foyer. “I think our presence will have been announced, unfortunately.”

“Do you have more bullets?” Molly asked.

“I always make sure I have two extra clips when I go into a situation I’m not sure about,” Sally said, reaching for her second one. “We were supposed to go in here before we got reports of the vampires and made the detour to Baker Street.”

Lestrade shook his head. “Remind me never to tease you about that again,” he said, going for his additional one and checking it.

“I’ll make sure of it,” she said. She looked over at Sherlock. “Did you figure out where the main power control is at?”

“I got interrupted,” he said, going back to the wall.

“We’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Molly said, moving closer to him but facing away. Sally and Lestrade took up positions around him and he went back to what he had been doing. After a few minutes he pulled away and Molly turned her head to look at him. “Well?”

“I was right,” he said. “Basement.”

“Just where we want to go when there’s vampires running loose,” Lestrade said.

“Let’s take the stairs instead of the lift,” Sally said. “If they have someone controlling any part of this building, letting us get stuck in a lift is a surefire way of making sure they can execute their plan.”

“Why take the stairs at all?” Sherlock said. “I can just transport us there, like I did to get us here.”

“Oh,” Sally said.

“It takes a bit to get used to it,” Molly said with a smile. “But you will, eventually.” She put a hand on Sally’s shoulder , then Sally put hand on Lestrade’s, and then Sherlock put his hand on hers. He cast the spell, but nothing happened. “Sherlock?”

“They’ve placed a barrier there,” he said. “I’m supposing it’s the same as the one keeping people away from the booth controlling what’s being broadcast.” He thought for a moment. “I know Merlin told us not to go near the booth, but if we can get to the basement and figure out what barrier spell they’re using, perhaps I can dismantle that one and know the counter spell when we need it to get into the booth.”

“So…stairs?” Lestrade asked.

Sherlock nodded. “Stairs.” They got into a tight formation to keep each other safe and made their way towards the marked area where the stairs were. Sherlock led the way, with Lestrade and Sally behind him and Molly in the rear. Admittedly he wasn’t fond of the idea of Molly being in the rear but she could probably defend it easily enough. They got down to the basement door and found an electronic control panel there. Sherlock used magic to coax it open, seeing Lestrade look impressed. “There’s a way into every locked room,” he said with a slight shrug.

“Magic makes it easier, I suppose,” he said as Sherlock opened the door.

“It does,” Sherlock said with a nod. He put his hand to go through the doorway but was blocked. In fact, when he touched the space there there was an electrical charge that shocked him. He brought his hand back and contemplated the barrier. He had worked on barrier spells with Merlin, but nothing like this. It was rather complicated magic; he could see it was being fueled by more than one person, and that was going to make it even more difficult to pick apart. “Where is he when I need him?” he murmured.

“Merlin?” Molly asked, and Sherlock nodded. “He should be here shortly. I mean, he said twenty minutes and it’s been…” She shifted her hold on the book she’d been handed and checked the watch on her wrist. “Nearly fifteen.”

Sherlock looked at the book. “May I see the book?” he asked her. She handed him the book and he flipped to the page that Merlin had bookmarked. It was a spell to send something summoned back to where it had come from. He then flipped back to the beginning of the book and quickly went through the pages, putting his skills at speed reading to the test. Finally he stopped. “Molly, come here.”

She moved around Sally and Lestrade to get closer to him. “A spell to drain power,” she said quietly, reading over his shoulder from her position on the stairs. “But it means magical power.”

“But perhaps we could modify it to mean electrical power,” he said thoughtfully.

“We have pocket torches,” Lestrade said helpfully, digging into the pocket of his coat and pulling out a small MagLite. Sally did the same, turning hers on. “We can hold them with our guns well enough.”

“I have one as well,” Sherlock said, shifting his hold on the book to dig his out of his Belstaff’s pocket. Once he got it out he handed it to Molly. “How is your Latin?”

“Decent,” she said.

He skimmed over the spell that was written down, going over it in his head. He knew where to make the changes in the spell to give the desired effects, or at least he was fairly sure he did. “All right. I’ll cast the spell a few times, and if you’ve got it well enough, join me. Otherwise lend me your strength, in case I need to reserve mine to help Merlin with whatever he has planned.”

She nodded and he handed her the book. She set the torch in the crease and then gave him her free hand. “Ready when you are.”

He set his hand just above the barrier. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drain the magic from the barrier, and he didn’t want to, but then he changed his mind. “We need to move somewhere near a light, or an outlet. Somewhere where the power is running.”

“Up a floor, there should be an outlet in the hallway somewhere,” Sally said.

Sherlock nodded and they trooped up the stairs to the floor above. When the door opened they heard a blood curdling howl, causing their eyes to widen. “I thought the werewolf movie wasn’t supposed to start until six!” Molly said.

“Perhaps they felt they needed a jumpstart on the next monster,” Sherlock said. He turned to Lestrade and Sally. “Any chance you have silver bullets?”

Lestrade snorted. “On a copper’s salary?”

“We have to hope they don’t get out in public,” Molly said. “Remember, the vampires weren’t able to go in people’s homes. They were keeping to some of the folk tale strictures, which must have been part of the movie. But if the werewolves bite someone, or scratch someone…”

“Then they become a werewolf, and we’ll have a bloody epidemic,” Sally said. “We need to get this taken care of, and fast.”

Suddenly Sherlock felt a familiar presence. “Good thing the cavalry’s arrived,” Merlin said. 

“Thank God,” Molly said with relief. “So we can stop them now?”

“Well, I can stop them,” he said. “But your idea of shutting off the power is a good one. Sherlock’s got a way with spells. Let me just get rid of that barrier spell for you and then I’ll head upstairs and make quick work of them once you cut off their source of power.”

The four of them moved out of the way and Merlin led them back down to the basement and headed straight to the barrier. He let his hands hover above it and began murmuring a counter spell. Suddenly it seemed there was a great electric storm between Merlin and the doorway, and the others turned their heads to keep from being blinded. When it died down Merlin was on the floor, unconscious. Molly went to him and checked for a pulse. “He’s still alive,” she said.

Sherlock went to the doorway and tentatively extended his hand. He managed to pass it through without a problem. “Tend to him,” he said. “I’ll take care of the power.” He made his way into the basement room and looked at the generators and all of the other equipment powering the building. It would be best if he just drained the lot of it. He looked around for what appeared to be the main power control and put his hand on it, concentrating. He wanted to make sure he didn’t absorb the power into himself, as while he was fairly sure it wouldn’t kill him he wasn’t entirely sure. Instead, he wanted to send it back. “ _Sit dimittendum illud quod tenet imperium, igitur in terram praetereunt, ab eo quod est vinculum perfectionis vas, sitque suum revertitur ibique venerunt excipiant ,_ ” he said quietly, repeating it as he saw felt the power levels begin to drop. Soon enough the room was pitch black, and he used his ability to make fire in his palm to find his way out to the others.

Merlin was sitting up, rubbing the back of his head. “That spell packed a wallop,” he said.

“Apparently,” Sherlock replied.

“Well, we still have at least one werewolf on the floor above to worry about, plus I have no idea how many others that may be outside these walls,” Merlin said, standing up with Molly and Sally’s help. “But we need to stop the Dark One’s followers from getting any bright ideas of reversing your spell or turning the power back on.”

Sherlock nodded. “Then let’s be on our way.”

“Let’s not give them a chance to pin us down anywhere,” Merlin said. “Let’s drop in on them.” He reached over for Greg’s arm and Molly’s hand. Greg grabbed Sally’s shoulder and Sally reached over for Sherlock’s arm, and within seconds they were outside the booth where the hooded figures were, only to see they still had full power and were in the process of switching movies. “Bloody hell,” he muttered.

But there was no other time to react. The people in hoods were caught by surprise, and Sherlock decided the best way to deal with them was to simply knock them unconscious by using the spell he’d used on Molly earlier while they were unaware. It worked on all but two of them. Sally hauled off and clocked the woman who was unaffected in the face when she tried to run, knocking her out cold, leaving the one that Sherlock realized must have been the not fully human character that had been mentioned. He strode up to him and looked down at him. “What were your intentions today?” he asked, throwing back the hood and seeing one of the faerie staring back.

The fae looked at him with contempt. “To stir up discord and cause confusion and terror. If we could kill some humans, make more monsters in the process, so much the better.”

“That’s despicable,” Molly said, disgust plain on her face.

“You may have stopped this attempt, but there will be more. Our work has just begun, our quest to bring glory to the Dark One will renew itself in earnest with each attempt you make at stopping us. You will only make our determination to bring about her glory stronger by tenfold.”

“Her?” Merlin said, suddenly alert. He strode forward and grabbed the robes of the fae, hauling him up. “The Dark One is female?” A sudden glaze came over the fae’s eyes and he began to laugh, a rather maniacal sound, until it became a high pitched wheezing and then broke off in a gurgling sound. Merlin stared in horror and then dropped the lifeless body down on the ground. “Damn.”

“What is it?” Sherlock asked.

Merlin waved him off. “Later. Right now we need to fix the mess they caused.” He motioned for Molly to give him the book. She handed it to him and he turned to the page he had marked before pulling out a large crystal from the pocket of his coat. “I’m going to recite the spell, but I need you and Sherlock to help ground me. But first, I need to draw some diagrams on the ground.”

The bloodcurdling howl was heard again, much closer this time. “You might want to hurry,” Lestrade said.

“I’ll try,” Merlin said, pulling out a piece of black chalk. He began to draw a diagram on the floor, every so often double checking something, as the howls got louder. Sherlock looked in the direction that the howling was coming from and when he saw the werewolf approach around the corner and pause to howl he let a ball of fire come forth in his palm. “No!” Merlin said. “I need you and Molly now.”

He let the fire fade away as Sally and Lestrade got into defensive positions. “What do you need us to do?”

“Step into the circle,” he said, doing just that and setting the crystal in the center. Molly and Sherlock did, Sherlock positioning himself so he could keep an eye on the werewolf. He seemed to be standing there, waiting. “Grasp my hands and keep your mind as clear as you can.” Sherlock and Molly each took a hand, and instinctively reached out and grasped each other’s hands as well, and then Merlin began to speak again. “ _Dimittam laruam a sua forma_ ,” he intoned. “ _Dimittam eam in quo factum. Reducite spiritum suum paene a physica host, et sines ita donec iterum ad quietem_!” Suddenly a bright light erupted from the crystal and it seemed to envelop the room before focusing in a straight beam and shooting up through the ceiling. The three of them stood there as the intensely bright light shined. The werewolf howled again, but the howl died off midway through, and as the light finally dimmed and vanished altogether the room became blissfully silent.

“Is it done?” Sally asked.

“All the monsters should be gone now,” Merlin said, sagging slightly. Molly was there in an instant, trying to support him. He flashed her a smile. “Thanks.”

Sherlock saw Greg fumble with his torch and his mobile, trying to get a call out. Then he paused. “Cell service is down,” he said.

Sally made her to one of the windows and looked out. “Holmes…I think you may have turned off the power to a _bit_ more than just the building,” she said.

“Oh?” he asked, moving towards her.

She nodded. “More like half of London,” she said, gesturing to the scene outside. None of the traffic signals were lit, none of the neon signs were on, nothing that would normally have power seemed to be working. She gave him a slight smile. “You might want to go fix that.”

“I probably should,” he said, giving her a faint grin in return. Hopefully he could, he thought to himself as he turned around and made his way back towards the stairs. It wouldn’t do well to leave half of London in this state.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRANSLATIONS:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **Sit dimittendum illud quod tenet imperium igitur in terram praetereunt, ab eo quod est vinculum perfectionis vas, sitque suum revertitur ibique venerunt excipiant -** _Let the power released from that which holds it and let it flow freely into the earth, away from the vessel which binds it, and let it seep back to where it came_
> 
>  **Dimittam laruam a sua forma / Dimittam eam in quo factum / Reducite spiritum suum paene a physica host, et sines ita donec iterum ad quietem -** _Release the spectre from its form / Release it to where it came / Release the spirit from its physical host, and allow it to rest again_


	6. Chapter 6

Hours later, Sherlock and Merlin had gotten the electricity mess sorted as best they could. It appeared Sherlock had drained the power out of the entire city of London, as well as a fair part of some of the outlying villages. Merlin had grumbled quite a bit at that, remarking on how they were _definitely_ going to have to work on tempering down that million jigawatt light bulb that was his powers. He had been quite shocked he’d done that, to be honest; he hadn’t thought he was that powerful. Merlin had said that, perhaps, it had something to do with the fact that it was Halloween and everything seemed to be amplified this time of year, and he supposed that, for now, this seemed to be the best explanation.

Sherlock and Molly had joined Lestrade and Sally for takeaway at Scotland Yard, helping them write up a report of what exactly happened inside the television studios. No matter what they said, it was going to come off as outrageous and fantastical, but then again, there was honestly no way to write the events of the day off as a mass hallucination or widespread practical joke, not when reports of monster sightings were coming in from all over the country. It appeared as though, whether Sherlock wanted it to be well known or not, his prowess with magic and his familiarity with the weirder side of things were now going to become a part of his official repertoire as a police consultant.

The power was not on at Baker Street when they finally trudged in at nearly eight, which he felt bad for since that meant Molly wasn’t going to get to enjoy any more of her favorite childhood Halloween movies on the day, which rather ruined her holiday. He saw that Mrs. Hudson had left some lit candles around for them so they didn’t kill themselves coming in, which he greatly appreciated. He shrugged out of his Belstaff and hung it up before joining Molly on the sofa. “It has been a long day,” she said, curling up next to him, resting her head in the crook of his neck and placing a hand on his chest.

He gathered her up close to him and shut his eyes. “And just think. In four hours it will all be over. It will be a new month, and then it will be three hundred and sixty-four days until we need to worry about Halloween again.”

“At least next year we’ll be better prepared,” she said. She yawned slightly after that.

“You should go to bed,” he said.

“But aside from saving the whole of the UK from classic movie monsters I barely spent any time with you today,” she said.

“We spent quite a few hours snogging this morning,” he pointed out.

“Mmm, that was a lovely way to start the morning,” she said. 

He chuckled slightly at that. “We have tomorrow evening after you get back from your shift. I may even surprise you by planning a date.”

“That would be lovely,” she said. “Maybe dinner somewhere niceish.”

“Niceish?” he asked.

“Well, not too terribly expensive. I mean, I don’t have any of my very nice dresses here for anything upscale, and I wouldn’t have time to buy something if we went out on our date tomorrow,” she said. “But I have some nice dresses which are semi-casual which would be nice for a date somewhere that’s more…informal.”

“So, dinner somewhere informal,” he said, running his hand on her arm. “Is there anything else you’d like to do? See a play? Go watch a film?”

She thought for a moment. “Would you do either of those without complaint?” she asked, lifting her head up.

“For you? Yes,” he said. “Even if I find it insipid and boring I’ll keep comments to myself and keep the eye rolling and sighs to a minimum.”

She chuckled softly and then leaned in to kiss him. “Then perhaps a film would be nice,” she said when she pulled away. “I think a play would take too long and we’d have to have a late dinner. I’ll even let you decide what we watch, if you want.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “You’d trust my decision in what we watch?”

“Well, if you have to sit through it, it should at least interest you a little,” she said. “And I have a very wide variety in tastes.”

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” he murmured.

“I think you just got very lucky,” she said with a soft smile before leaning in to kiss him again. He held her close as he kissed her back, his mind flitting around the fact that it was more than luck, that it was fate, and that somehow fate was being kind…and he hoped never to tempt fate into taking her away, because he couldn’t bear to lose her. She was, in many respects, the light of his life, and if she was gone he feared darkness would take hold and he’d never see light again, and that could be a very dangerous thing.


End file.
